


That Bitter Taste At The Back Of The Throat

by CyberjenicPanda



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: (?), (not the cat), Gen, I don’t know how to tag this, Light Angst, Paul Has A Grudge, Post-Episode: s03e13 That Hope Is You Part 2, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberjenicPanda/pseuds/CyberjenicPanda
Summary: Paul has been around long enough to realise the importance of letting go of petty differences and slights.But this one is just too hard to ignore.> Please note that this fic contains spoilers for the third season’s finale, so please do not read this fic unless you have watched the episode! (or, if you don’t care about spoilers)
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets, Michael Burnham & Paul Stamets
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	That Bitter Taste At The Back Of The Throat

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I’ve had this idea rattling around in my head since *that* scene in the 12th episode, but I hesitated to write this until I watched the season finale in case it addressed this, but thankfully it didn’t, so I gave myself the go-ahead to write this. I imagine this will probably get addressed in the fourth season, but on the off-chance that it doesn’t (which, to be fair, there were things that I expected to be addressed in the third season that flat out weren’t, so it’s entirely possible this entire plot point could also be ignored) I present this to you all.  
> Also! I haven’t written any of these characters before, so apologies if they read as a bit OOC, and if you have any recommendations or note any egregious character errors, feel free to let me know ^^  
> I also realise now that more than a handful of people have already done this exact same idea before me, but I’d already written most of it when I went to look so I’m just going to go ahead anyway :’)
> 
> Rated Teen and Up for minor swearing.

Left. 

Right.

Paul strode along the hallways, heart in time with his footsteps, the steady rhythm of it all strangely soothing and keeping the panic just at bay. 

Left. 

Ri- 

He rounded the corner, footsteps falling into disarray as he only just about managed to prevent himself from colliding with an ensign going the other way. In his chest, his heart went haywire, hammering in his throat and choking him from the inside out. 

Left.

Right. 

He resumed the simple beat, forcing himself to take in deep breaths. _In. Hold. Out. Hold._

As the steady pattern drove his feet, his mind let itself wander. How was the _Discovery_ even here at all? Even at full warp they’d never have been able to get there and back in time. Had they gotten the drive to somehow work without him? How? He and Tilly were still only in the preliminary stages of testing the dark matter supercomputer, and he highly doubted that she, or any of Osyraa’s scientists, could have made it work in the time that he was gone. But if not that, then how? He mentally flicked that question to the back of his mind. Never mind that, that’s a question for another day. 

A welcome sight jerked him out of his thoughts, even as his heart resumed its place somewhere in his throat once more. What would he find beyond those doors? They’d have told him if… If one of them had… Surely? The fingernails that dug into his palm hurt, and he knew that he should stop, but he needed it to focus. Needed to use the sharp pain that radiated out from his hand as an anchor to stop him from drifting away into a panicked haze, to keep him in the here and now.

Left. Right. That’s all it is. Left… Right…

The automatic doors hissed open.

They didn’t notice him at first, which was to be expected; Hugh was focused on Adira and the latter had their back turned to him. He could tell the moment that Hugh looked up and recognised him, though, for his face split into a beautiful smile. Paul wasn’t quite sure what happened next, and only later would he realise that he had all but sprinted into Hugh’s arms, but the next thing he knew he was being enveloped in a warm hug, it’s strong embrace keeping him upright even as all he wanted to do was melt into a puddle on the floor. 

“Hugh,” he whispered, voice strangled and barely there.

“It’s alright, I’m here. We’re safe,” Hugh whispered back, one hand coming up to rub circles in between his shoulder blades, a steady and reassuring weight. 

“Don’t worry! None of us are gonna be dying from radiation sickness any time soon,” a nervous voice piped up behind him, and he detached himself just enough from Hugh to be able to look in Adira’s direction, noting their hesitance and immediately disliking it’s presence. 

“C’mere you.” Was all the warning he gave before he was crushing Adira in a hug of his own, grateful that Hugh’s hand stayed steady the whole time. After a moment or two of cementing the fact that they were still whole and alive beneath his arms, he pulled back, putting on the best disapprovingly parental glare he could muster. “Speaking of…” he started, raising both eyebrows at them. They didn’t even have the gall to look sheepish. 

“We’ve already had that conversation,” Hugh piped up from over his shoulder, the rueful smile he was fighting back ringing clear.

“Well, I think it’s such a good one that we ought to have it again,” Paul argued, throwing a raised eyebrow at an innocent looking Hugh before turning back to Adira. “Now, I’m guessing you already know what I’m about to say?”

Adira’s eyes flickered off to the side for a moment before darting back to his. “Something about being reckless and incredibly lucky and disobeying orders?” they hazarded, nervously wringing their hands in front of them. 

“I’m not going to say that you shouldn’t have done it, otherwise both Hugh and Captain Saru would have…” his voice faltered for a second, and he was once more grateful for the steadying weight on his back, drawing on some of the calm that it carried to keep him going. _“But,_ that does not excuse the fact that you put yourself in a dangerous situation, one that could very well have been fatal had luck not been on your side.” He sighed, feeling an all too familiar pressure build behind his eyes. However, before it could really get anywhere, Hugh stepped forward, politely drawing the attention to him.

“What Paul is trying to say is thank you,” Hugh translated, a broad, mischievous grin tugging at his features. Adira snickered into one hand, clearly trying to keep from full on laughing.

“Hey now! That is _not_ what I was leading into at all, I’m being a responsible and reprimanding parent here!” he grouched, glaring between the two of them, somewhat belied by the slight smile on his face. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement near the door and any possible mirth dropped from his face as his mind processed _her_ presence. Without meaning to, he tensed, the beginnings of adrenaline starting to take hold once more, his shoulder starting to ache in remembrance. 

Vaguely, he was aware that Hugh had noticed the sudden shift in behaviour, as had Adira, but he only had eyes for Michael. Somewhere deep down inside, a twisted, angry part of him was happy to see the smile drop from her face as she beated a hasty retreat, disappearing quickly from view. The tension between his shoulders remained.

“Paul?” Hugh asked, worry creeping into his voice and features, his other hand placed lightly over Paul’s chest, holding him up from both sides. With more effort than he cared to admit, he tore his eyes away from where Michael had been standing a moment ago and turned to look back at Hugh, the concern dancing in his warm and caring eyes. 

“M’fine,” he muttered, realising a split second too late that perhaps that wasn’t the most satisfactory of answers. Clearing his throat and swallowing back the bitter taste that had gathered there, he elaborated, “It doesn’t matter. I’m guessing you guys must be tired? I know I’m exhausted, and I’ve barely done a single thing today. C’mon, it’s late, anyway.” He could almost feel the look Hugh and Adira must be sharing, but he paid it no mind as he tugged them both out of Sickbay and back to their own respective quarters. 

~

Beside him, Hugh’s steady, even breaths echoed around the otherwise silent room, save for the ever present low hum of the engines that gently reverberated through the whole ship. For Hugh, sleep had come relatively easy - he’d been out like a light almost immediately after he’d laid down - but for Paul, it was a different story. No matter what he did, he just couldn’t get his mind to quieten down enough for sleep to even be a fleeting possibility.

Over and over again, the events of the past day (had it really only been a day? It felt like weeks) rattled around in his head, at how close he’d come to losing not one, but _both_ of them. Involuntarily, he shuddered, his gaze immediately flitting over to check on Hugh, hoping that he hadn’t woken him. Low and quiet in the back of his throat, he sighed and moved closer to Hugh’s form, one arm snaking over his midsection to hold him even closer. For a moment, he hesitated, before deciding _fuck it_ and placing his head directly onto Hugh’s chest. His heart was a slow, soothing pulse beneath his ear, finding an easy rhythm with the air that slowly whooshed in and out with each breath.

 _He’s right here, safe and alive. Everything’s fine. He’s fine. You’re fine. Adira’s fine. Everybody is_ **_fine._ **

With a start, he abruptly realised he’d lost the battle he didn’t even know he was fighting as hot tears ran off of his nose and onto Hugh’s shirt. He swallowed, doing his best to hold back the sob that wanted to claw its way out of his throat, the realisation of _just how close_ he’d been to losing everything smacking him over the head like a shuttlepod. 

_Just like that. Not just Hugh, but Adira as well, just when everything had started to get back on track, life just_ **_had_ ** _to remind me how easily it could all be taken away,_ how **_close_ ** _I’d been to losing what I hold most dear._

All because of Michael.

His breath caught in his throat.

That wasn’t true, she was no more in control of the situation than he was - he had no right to blame her.

And yet he did. 

He knew that if things had turned out different, if luck hadn’t been on their side, if the universe had decided to turn a blind eye, he would blame her with every inch of his being. 

Which was stupid. 

Just because she had had the common sense to realise what had to be done when he was too emotional to didn’t mean that her actions had caused any of it. He _knew_ that it was the most logical choice, the only choice, really. Osyraa would have used him to jump _Discovery_ to who knows where and exact the terror that she wanted to inflict, the entire universe suddenly at her fingertips. And they couldn’t have let that happen. How did that old Vulcan proverb go? ‘Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few’ or some shit like that. 

But the heart and the mind are two entirely separate things. Paul knew this by now, and while the latter had firmly grasped that concept, the former still beated out an angry and hurt staccato. 

~

Paul’s tired gaze raked over lines and lines of text, trying to pick out and pinpoint the faulty line of code that was throwing far more errors than should be possible. Of course, after he found this one, another would soon appear in its place, but one thing at a time. At least all of this boring monotony occupied his mind enough to keep it from wandering every other second. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and raking it through his hair, desperately trying to keep himself at least somewhat focused at the task at hand. 

“There you are,” a voice announced from somewhere behind him just as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Paul turned sharply, not bothering to hide the instinctual smile that blossomed on his face as his brain registered who exactly that voice belonged to. 

“Hello,” he greeted in return, leaning into Hugh’s hand as it moved from his shoulder to his cheek. Hugh’s warm smile turned slightly teasing, and Paul had only a moment to frown in confusion before his unspoken question was answered.

“Forget something?” he asked, oh so innocently, eyes twinkling with mischief. Paul frowned.

“What do you-” He blinked. Oh, right. Yeah. _That._ He closed his mouth without finishing the sentence, his cheeks traitorously heating up under Hugh’s touch. “Perhaps,” he instead finished, swallowing audibly. “Got a bit sidetracked… Lots of, uh, work, and stuff.”

Hugh just nodded sagely, his smirk far too knowing for Paul’s taste.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He gestured vaguely with his free hand. “Work and stuff.” 

Paul cleared his throat, perhaps a little too pointedly.

“Well, not _all_ of us were awarded free leave, y’know. Some of us _do_ have to do a little thing called work that’s expected of us.” 

“Medical leave doesn’t count,” he responded, voice high and singsong, the teasing note back at full force. Paul just harrumphed, quick practiced movements shutting down his console with ease before he turned back to Hugh. 

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he grumbled, while Hugh just beamed at him, slipping his hand into his and squeezing it a little. Despite the unamused glare he shot Hugh’s way, he still squeezed the hand in his back. 

~

Paul zoned out as Hugh chattered on about nothing all that important, the low drone of his words surrounding and enveloping Paul in a pleasant fog as he took in every single beautiful detail of the main beside him. He was vaguely aware that he was being led somewhere, presumably the mess hall, but he allowed himself to drift along in Hugh’s wake, even as they entered the room itself and got their food. 

It was only once he was being guided towards their intended table did his attention waver at all. Too late, he would soon realise. Hugh moved past him as he stuttered to a halt, grip tightening around the tray. Michael looked up as Hugh sat down in the seat across from her, her eyes flicking over to Paul’s for a second before focusing on Tilly once more, forcing a smile back onto her face in place of the slightly pained expression it had adopted. 

After standing there for a moment, he blinked and belatedly realised he should probably sit down. He did so with a thump. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hugh giving him a weird look, his mouth halfway open to speak, but Michael cut in first.

“I apologise for my poor timing, but I must be going,” she announced, already getting out of her chair before the last word had left her mouth. Tilly, however, had her doubts.

“What? But you haven’t finished yet!” She gestured to Michael’s mostly empty plate. “And besides, it’s not like you’ve got much to do - we’ve been shelved for at least a few days for repairs.” She tilted her head at Michael, who looked visibly uncomfortable for a split second as she shifted in place, but continued gathering her tray nonetheless.

“Unfortunately, paperwork cares not for days off,” she responded, tone light and her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Tilly answered, visibly dejected for a moment before her usual enthusiasm returned in full force. “Of course, absolutely! See you,” she beamed, waving a little as Michael moved away from the table, offering a warm nod in passing to Hugh. Paul was glad she didn’t even bother trying to say goodbye to him. 

An awkward air descended over the table. Tilly was clearly not quite sure what to do with herself in the wake of Michael’s unexpected departure, while Hugh’s gaze was still focused on Michael as she weaved her way out of the Mess Hall, a slight frown creasing the skin in between his eyebrows. Paul, however, figured he might as well start eating, the tight knot in his stomach be damned. 

“The repairs are going well,” Tilly blurted out, clearly hoping to dispel the uncomfortable silence. Hugh’s focus finally drifted back to the conversation at hand, the pensive frown on his face swallowed by an easy, warm smile. 

“That’s good to hear,” Hugh replied, finally picking up his fork to start eating.

“Osyraa’s software modifications are taking some work,” Paul added, trying to sound normal. “But we should have the last of them rooted out by the time the physical damage is fixed.” 

“I’m so glad nothing she did managed to be permanent,” Tilly mused absently, “Especially that device she used on you that made you go back into the network, though-”

“What?” Hugh interrupted, the beginnings of panic already gripping his voice as he turned sharply towards Paul. His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out, eyes darting over to send a glare in a mortified Tilly’s direction.

“I, uh, well,” Tilly stammered out, cheeks going a bright scarlet as she gestured lamely at Paul. The brief respite was just long enough for his brain to reboot. 

“First of all, I’m fine,” he started, holding one hand up and watching some of the initial panic in Hugh’s eyes dissipate, though that only left more room for the irritation to shine through. “Tracy looked me over and gave me the all clear,” he paused, biting his lip briefly and lowering his voice before he continued, “I was going to tell you last night but I figured you needed the rest more.” 

Hugh stared at him indignantly for a long moment, before the anger crumbled in on itself and he merely sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tilly staring intently at her food, clearly trying to give them as much privacy as the middle of a crowded Mess Hall could offer. 

“Alright,” he breathed, voice soft and trusting, a small smile quirking his lips. “But I want to go over the scans as well just to be sure,” he continued pointedly, eyebrows raised. Paul took Hugh’s hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Of course,” he responded, allowing a soft smile to flicker across his face before he turned back to the table as a whole. Realising that they were finished, Tilly looked up once more, her face somehow even more red than it was before.

“I’m really sorry, I-I thought you’d already been debriefed and I-” Hugh held up a hand, politely stemming the flow of her panicked words. 

“It’s okay, Tilly.” He chuckled a little. “It’s scheduled for after this, actually,” he explained, the mirth still swimming in his voice. “Regardless, you weren’t to know.”

Tilly seemed to accept his reassurances for what they were with a slight nod, and went back to her food, spearing a leaf and shoving it in her mouth. While she was otherwise occupied, Paul spotted Hugh shooting a look in his direction and then another in Tilly’s, both of which he promptly ignored, instead waiting for Tilly to swallow her mouthful so that they could continue the conversation. After a moment, Hugh seemed to let it pass, and joined in the conversation with them. 

~

Paul walked down the corridor back to his shared quarters with Hugh, trying to ignore the way his feet dragged. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ want to be in Hugh’s presence, he did, he just didn’t want to deal with the ensuing awkward conversation that was sure to happen once he was. He sighed. It was going to happen sooner or later, may as well get it over and done with. With a renewed determination, he picked up the pace a little, almost at his destination when he was abruptly halted as someone came around the corner at the same time as him and he desperately tried to keep from whacking into them. Only it was the last person he wanted to see right now.

“Ah, sorry,” Michael apologised quickly, not quite making eye contact with him. There wasn’t currently anyone else around, it being quite late and all, but there was always the chance someone might soon be, so he kept it short.

“No worries, Commander.” With that, he side-stepped her and made to move past, but instead of continuing in the direction she’d been going in, she spun around to follow him.

“Not just for almost bumping into you,” she amended, not bothering to elaborate as they both knew perfectly well what she meant. He froze in his tracks and felt his blood begin to boil, that familiar fear and anger rearing its ugly head once more. 

“I don’t want your apologies,” he hissed, dropping all pretence of formality and glaring at her in the same way that made most ensigns bawl on the spot. However, it seemed to have the opposite effect, for in an instant Michael’s face was smooth and calm once more, the earlier guilt and self-reproach washed away completely.

“I understand,” she intoned, voice professionally cordial. “Good day, Lieutenant Commander.” And with a dip of her head, she was gone, disappearing around the corner in two swift steps.

He stood there for several seconds, simply glaring at the empty space she had once occupied, before he shook his head, trying to clear the wave of anger that was threatening to drown him. 

In. Hold. Out. Hold. 

He sighed, spinning on his heel and walking the short distance to their quarters, hesitating for a split second before tapping in his code and slipping inside the door, trying to retain as much calm as he could for the coming conversation. Hugh was seated on the couch, already dressed in his pajamas with a PADD in one hand, though all of his attention was on Paul as Paul stared at him from just inside the doorway, the door swishing shut behind him with a muted hiss. 

“Hey,” Hugh murmured, leaning forward to place the PADD down on the coffee table in front of him and waving Paul over with his free hand. As if pulled by a string, he felt his body move towards the couch without really meaning to, slumping into the seat next to Hugh with a thump. Almost immediately, Hugh pulled him in, and he let himself burrow into the warm embrace Hugh provided, all of the tension melting out of him in an instant as Hugh rubbed a slow soothing pattern into the spot just between his shoulder bladers. 

However, such wonders could not last. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He felt more than saw Hugh’s expectant gaze, no doubt swimming with concern that he couldn’t see. Did he? If he was being honest, not really, but he knew this conversation wasn’t going to be over until he at least said something, so he went with the easier option.

“Tracy gave me the all clear,” he reminded him pointedly, his words muffled slightly by the fabric of Hugh’s shirt. “Nothing to talk about.” 

“Paul,” Hugh warned, tone firm and unyielding, yet indescribably soft all at once. Okay, perhaps the ‘nothing’ bit _was_ a step too far. He moved back, just enough to look Hugh in the eyes, and had to almost immediately look away at the upset and worried expression he found. He swallowed heavily. After a moment or two to gather his courage, he started to talk. 

“Yeah, it was scary, but it was also only temporary, and it…” he trailed off, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. After a moment’s hesitation, he burrowed back into Hugh’s side, infinitely grateful for the arm that tugged him in ever closer. “And it… It felt _different_ somehow,” he continued, “I don’t know if it was just because of the device or what, but it did. Not as... all-consuming? Or at least not as strong, I was still somewhat aware of what was going on.” 

Paul paused, not sure if being aware was better or worse, at which point Hugh hummed thoughtfully, steady fingers resuming the same pattern as before, the soothing ministrations letting the words flow more easily from inside his brain. 

“All I could think about was you, and what was going to happen to you because of what Osyraa had done, dying down there on that planet, stuck in a holo-simulation as your body tore itself apart.” He shuddered, turning his face fully into Hugh’s shirt, hoping it’d soak up the tears that had started falling from his cheeks. “And then I was out, and I finally thought things would be okay, but then Adira was gone too and I-” he cut himself off, not quite able to admit what had happened after that and grateful that Hugh could no longer see his expression. 

He still wasn’t comfortable with the display of raw emotion he’d exhibited, how he’d begged and pleaded only for it to be ignored. Obviously, he was hurt, but his pride had taken a hit, too, that Michael had seen him break down and shatter into a million pieces and that even _that_ wasn’t enough to change her decision. Not that she’d technically made the wrong one, just that even after everything, it wasn’t enough. 

“And you what?” Hugh asked gently, but his tone suggested he already knew exactly what Paul had stopped himself from saying. Which was impossible, he hadn’t breathed a word about it to anyone, not even in his official report that he’d submitted - he’d practically glossed over everything that had happened after Michael had turned up. Had Michael…? Surely not, she had to have understood how hard it had been for him, and she wasn’t exactly the type to gossip. But Hugh was still waiting for an answer, and trying to figure out how he apparently already knew everything would have to wait. 

“And I’m just glad it’s over,” he finished lamely, which was one hundred percent the truth, just not the one Hugh was looking for. Now it was Hugh’s turn to sigh, and he could hear the air whooshing in and out of his lungs from underneath his ear. 

“Alright,” he eventually murmured, clearly deciding for whatever reason to leave things as they were for the time being. 

Paul was grateful.

~

Paul tapped away at his station, trying in vain to curb the steady throb that sat just behind his eyes while also simultaneously ignoring the flagrant staring from one red-headed ensign. What made it worse, if that was even possible, was that she was trying (and failing) to be subtle about it. As if the near constant side-eyeing was at all surreptitious. 

He huffed out a sigh, leaning forward to brace himself on his station and taking a deep, hopefully calming breath. 

It didn’t work. 

Aggravation turning his actions quick, he snatched his PADD and stalked away from the main floor of the second engineering bay, quickly making his way over to the adjacent cultivation bay for some much needed peace and quiet.

Plus, this way, if Tilly wanted to not-so-subtly stare at him she’d have to do so within arm’s reach and he was fairly certain that she would at least think that _that_ was a step too far.

He took a deep breath, watching the spores dance and twirl around him before closing his eyes, the low lighting doing wonders for the tight feeling that had been gathering behind them. For a few seconds, he simply allowed himself to just stand there and gather his wits, before he reluctantly pried them open and scanned the area for a good place to sit and continue his work. Quickly finding an appropriately mushroomless spot, he plonked himself down, feeling the tension drain out of him as he propped his back against the wall behind him and focused once more on the PADD in his hands. 

His sanctuary remained undisturbed for a few minutes at most.

It was the locking mechanism disengaging that warned him first, and he fought back another sigh, trying to remind himself that this was still technically a public space and that others _did_ actually have somewhat of a reason to be in here. That fact did little to ease the possessive feeling that settled somewhere near his heart and was only compounded with a sharp annoyance as soon as he realised who exactly had decided to bother him. 

Jett glanced back and forth around the bay, clearing looking for something, and Paul glared at her from his spot behind a particularly thick clump of mushrooms, mostly blocked from the door’s view. Of course, as soon as she started walking forward, he became rather obvious.

“Great, there you are,” Jett grunted by way of greeting, sounding thoroughly bored and put upon even though _she’d_ been the one to seek him out. 

“Congratulations,” he replied dryly, arching one eyebrow at her before getting straight to the point. “What do you want?” 

“No need to be so terse,” she sassed, moving forward in his direction before abruptly sitting down across from him, undeterred by the incredulous look her actions brought forth from him. “Who’s to say I’m not here for official business-y stuff?” 

He felt that his unamused glare spoke for itself, but just in case, he clarified, “The fact that you, despite being allergic to human interaction, came up all the way from main engineering instead of just comming me.” 

“Whatever,” she dismissed, waving her hand lazily. “Don’t you want to know why I’m here? Since, apparently, I’m putting my health at risk for a once in a millennium occurrence?”

He looked at her for a beat before pointedly turned back to the PADD in his hands.

“Not particularly.”

They sat in silence for a moment or two, which Paul spent tapping away meaninglessly on his PADD while ignoring the glare Jett was shooting at him from the edges of his vision. After a moment, she sighed, slumping a little as her face twisted into a more displeased than usual frown. 

“Fine, since you’re not going to play nice, I’ll just get to it then, since clearly no one else has the guts to say anything.” Despite her brusque words, there was a tenseness to her frame, as if she was expecting to get punched in the face at any moment. Paul had only a moment to ponder why before she answered his unspoken question for him. “You really need to get over yourself and stop being an ass to the people who save your life.”

Paul blinked.

 _“Excuse me?”_ he asked, voice pitched with the perfectly appropriate amount of incredulity. 

“You’re excused,” she replied, voice deadpan as she talked over the indignant spluttering that followed Paul’s words. 

He scoffed, not quite able to contain his annoyance, but stowing enough of it to be able to shoot back a particularly seething, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and even if I did, I have work to do, so you can take your leave now.” 

Instead of finally pissing off, as he had intended (hoped), Jett only rolled her eyes at him, looking particularly aggrieved. 

“Oh, puh- _lease,”_ she scoffed in turn, “Everyone and their mother knows what happened between you and Burnham, it’s not exactly a federation secret.” She crossed her arms, leaning back a fraction as she pinned him with an unamused, but oddly understanding, look. 

“What? Did Burnham-?”

“Didn’t have to,” she interrupted with a dismissive wave of her hand, “It doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out that you wouldn’t have willingly left both of them on that radioactive rock, and yet you did, and since you haven’t miraculously gained a brain since the last time I saw you, it’s pretty obvious that Burnham actually used that thing in her skull and made the smart choice for you instead.”

Paul did nothing but stare at her blankly for several long seconds. 

To her credit, Jett didn’t fidget at all, even if she _was_ the one to break the silence first.

“Did you really think she’d be stupid enough to leave you on that ship so Osyraa could do as she pleased? Or has your ego forgotten that you’re the only one who can pilot that fancy drive of yours? Or, at least, that we knew of.” 

“That’s not the point,” he snapped, finally finding his voice once again. 

“Then what is?” Jett countered, face scrunching up a little more. 

“The point is that she left them to die!” he grounded out through clenched teeth, grip tightening around the PADD enough that it started to creak a little. “And it’s only by some fucking miracle that her new boyfriend was able to pilot the drive and save them, which she had _no idea_ he could do.” 

“And you think she didn’t know that?” Jett’s voice was incredulous, and her expression was one step away from outright calling him a moron. “Let’s say she’d have let you stay and jump the _Discovery_ back to that nebula, then what? _Discovery_ wouldn’t have been able to get close enough without being torn apart itself, and Book’s ship was in about a dozen pieces all over the hangar bay, so it’s not exactly like you could have used that. If you actually stop to think about it for a half a second, you’ll realise that she was giving them the best possible odds for survival.”

He blinked. 

“Yeah,” she scoffed, pushing herself to her feet to stand before him. “That’s what I thought.” 

~

Paul’s gait was quick as he walked down _Discovery’s_ halls, a frown on his face as he chewed absent-mindedly on his lower lip. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jett was right. Jaw set, he half sighed, half growled in the back of his throat. _Damn that woman._

With a start, he ducked to the side to avoid whacking into someone going the opposite way, raising his hand in apology, not realising how far he’d retreated into his own mind. He shook his head and continued on, making sure to be aware of his surroundings this time as he made his way to the Mess Hall. He figured, well, _hoped_ that she’d be in there given the time, but he really probably should have checked beforehand, and it wasn’t like he could do so now in the middle of a crowded hallway. He exhaled sharply, putting his stupidity to the side for the moment, hoping he’d be able to catch her before she entered the Mess Hall, that way he wouldn’t have to approach her where literally everyone could see. The door to the Mess Hall was in sight, no such luck. With great effort, he bit back another sigh, resigning himself to becoming the new hot gossip topic of the week and marched through the doors, trying to at least look a little bit like he wasn’t about to face a firing squad. He had the suspicion his attempt wasn’t all that convincing. 

Michael was fairly easy to pick out in the crowd, and thankfully the table she sat at only contained her, Detmer, and Tilly. Which, he hoped, should make this at least a little bit less painful. He resolutely ignored the entire half of the room that Reno was in as she sat at a table in the back corner with Tracy, not liking the knowing and smug look she’d presumably be sending in his direction. With quick strides he beelined his way over to them, presumably to the surprise of everyone currently within the room and definitely to the surprise of all three women at the table, who were looking at him with varying degrees of confusion, and apprehension in Michael’s case. 

“Can I talk to you, Burnham?” he asked, careful to keep his voice both neutral and low. The fewer people who heard this conversation the better. She put down her utensils, sharing a brief glance in Tilly’s direction before turning back to him and nodding. 

“Of course.” He glanced around, not liking the amount of eyes that were already surreptitiously on them. 

“In private?” he elaborated, his jaw clenching a little as he resolutely kept his eyes on Michael, in no way wanting to know what kind of expression would no doubt be on Tilly’s face - he could just about see Detmer’s out of the corner of his eye and hers was already bad enough. 

“Of course,” she merely repeated, pushing back her chair to stand. Satisfied that she would follow, he set off again back out of the room, ignoring the several dozen eyes he felt follow him on his way out. He spared a glance over his shoulder just to make sure that she was indeed still behind him before ducking into a room not far from the Mess Hall, a rec room of some kind if he had to guess. What mattered most was that it was empty save for the two of them. She came to a tense parade rest just inside the room, her shoulders hitching upwards a fraction as the door hissed close behind her, effectively shielding them from prying eyes. From her expression he could only guess that she thought he was going to shout at her or something, and he didn’t exactly blame her, even if he had hoped that she wouldn’t have thought him so low that he’d bring her away in private just to berate her. 

For a second, he said nothing, staring at his hands and wringing them in front of him as he thought about how best to phrase what he needed to say. Thankfully, Michael said nothing, even though the grim expression on her face did little to ease the tension that hung between them. 

He sighed, figuring the best approach was a straightforward one - he was too tense to think of anything eloquent right now. 

“I, uh,” he started, before stopping himself and shaking his head at the nervous note to his voice. He balled his hands and started again, “I wanted to apologise for my actions, both during and after everything that happened with Osyraa. It was unwarranted and uncalled for, and I realise that now, even if it took me… a bit to realise it.” No amount of ingrained Vulcan upbringing could keep the surprise off of her face. 

“Oh…” she breathed, looking not too dissimilar to being sucker punched. “It’s alright.” That got him to finally look up at her, her eyes wide as she stared at him, back ramrod straight.

“No, it’s not!” he exclaimed, before correcting himself and pitching his voice back down. “No, it’s not. I was… I was being a dick, a moronic one at that. I was panicking and scared and thinking about as straight as I am, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, you were just trying to do what was best for them _and_ me, despite how difficult I was being.” He exhaled sharply, glad that everything that had been swirling around his brain for the last few days was finally out in the air between them. 

For several seconds, she said nothing, and he was painfully aware of his own worked up breathing, not quite realising until now how much his nerves had gotten to him. Finally, she broke into a strained smile, though he could tell that it was still sincere.

“What I meant by that, was that I understand.” She finally fell out of her stiff parade rest, even if her shoulders were still tense. Her mouth opened as if to say more, but nothing came out.

“You can agree with my claim of being a moronic dick if you’d like, I more than deserve it.” 

“I felt that my agreement with your statement was clear without me having to verablise it,” she responded, a careful degree of sass coating each word. He huffed, breaking out into a weary smile as he shook his head a little. For a brief moment, both of them just stood there, unsure what to say or even do.

“Do you want to join us for lunch?” she eventually asked, gesturing to the door behind her.

“And have everyone stare at me as I eat my food? No, thank you.” The smile that graced her lips was a little more easy this time. “I’ll leave that to you.” 

“In that case, I’ll be taking my leave, unless…?” she trailed off, hesitation clear in her voice. 

“No, no.” He waved her off. “Go, enjoy lunch. Tell Tilly I said ‘hi’.” 

A nod, and then, “Of course. Good day, Lieutenant Commander.” Despite the title, the words were warm.

“And to you, Commander.” She gave one last small smile before stepping away and disappearing back into the corridor, the door whooshing shut behind her. 

Paul took a deep breath and sighed, figuring that could have definitely gone worse. 

Turning on his heel, he made his way over to the window that was set into the wall opposite the door, leaning his hip against the sill as he watched the various ships dotted around the bubble, each one attached by a tendril to the main core. For a while, he just simply stood there and marveled at them, but before long his commbadge rang out, and, with a sigh, he pushed himself away from the window and exited the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully it isn’t too obvious that I kinda petered out there at the end, but regardless, I hope you enjoyed it! I’m not entirely sure of the argument between Reno and Stamets, but I reworked it so many times that I eventually had to just say that enough was enough and to leave it how it is, so I hope that that isn’t too jarring or nonsensical either.  
> Also, I realise that they have PADDs built into their commbadges, but I have lots of issues with those that I’m not going to get into right now, so I just gave him a standard one as well (plus, the crew would be used to the old technology, so it’s not infeasible that they’d prefer the old stuff, but also, the holo-displays are dumb #sorrynotsorry).


End file.
